


Lost Time is Never Found Again

by ApolloAttraction



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blood, But also, Established Relationship, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Pre-Relationship, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 23:13:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21216629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApolloAttraction/pseuds/ApolloAttraction
Summary: Dorian is gravely wounded during a battle and Cullen tries to get him to a medic. Dorian confesses his love in the midst of it all.





	Lost Time is Never Found Again

Dorian’s clothes are soaked through with blood, enough to stain Cullen’s surcoat when he lifts him from the ground and pulls him close. “Medic,” Cullen yells. Clangs and blasts from the ongoing battle drown out the sound of his voice. “We need a healer,” he tries again, head swiveling from side to side as he crosses the field, ducking through assailants and around demons as quickly as he can. The camp isn’t far. Wynne would be waiting. If they could just make it-

“Cullen!” Dorian lifts the hand still gripping his staff and waves it sharply. A blast of fire shoots from the end and knocks a possessed warden to the wayside. The noise the warden makes is nearly as pained as the one Dorian lets out as he lowers his arm back down.

“Don’t try to cast spells right now,” Cullen hisses.

“Then don’t run blindly into battle,” Dorian responds, but the words are soft and weak.

“You shouldn’t have jumped between that warden and I,” Cullen says, still charging towards camp.

“It’s a little late for that now, dear,” Dorian laughs, but it sputters into a dry cough.

“This isn’t a time for jokes.” Cullen sounds desperate as he crosses into the forested area buffering their camp. “You aren’t armored properly for close combat.”

Dorian groans. “Sorry, Commander,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “But I thought it was better to guard you and the inquisitor.”

“Adaar was fine and long gone-“ Cullen starts to chastise him again, but when he looks to him he sees the gauntness of his face, his eyes darkened not by kohl but fatigue. “Why?” Cullen demands softly. “Why did you do it?”

Dorian is so silent that Cullen thinks he’s lost him. “Answer me,” he demands, voice fringed with panic at the idea that Dorian won’t speak again. “Just tell me why you did it!”

“Please,” Dorian grimaces. “You know why.”

If they were under any other circumstances, Cullen might have puzzled it out himself, but trudging through the mud with Dorian dying in his arms leaves him frenzied. “I don’t know,” he insists. “It was colossally stupid. I can’t-“

“Because I love you,” Dorian says fiercely. “I’m sorry, Cullen. I’m in love with you, okay?” His head lulls back against Cullen’s arm and all at once his body goes slack. His staff slides from his hand, hitting the border of their encampment with a soft thud.

Cullen’s head snaps to the medical tents across the camp, already overflowing with the wounded that managed to make it from the battle. He spots their Ferelden healer and her name wrenches itself from his lips like a scream “Wynne!” Her head turns to him. She meets him halfway across the encampment and takes Dorian’s body from him. “He’s dying,” Cullen tells her as though that isn’t apparent enough. She wastes no time asking what happened or comforting Cullen as she places Dorian on a cot and pushes him into the tents.

When Cullen tries to go after them, Cole steps into his way. “It isn’t good to follow.”

“Move,” Cullen orders.

Cole stays between him and the medic tents. “You think if you are there, it will help,” Cole’s head is tilted down, his hat hiding half his face. “But you do not have magic or training.” Cullen tries to step around him, but Cole still moves like a spirit and blocks his way immediately. “It is painful to watch them die,” Cole says in the absent way that means he’s reading someone’s thoughts. “It is worse to watch their loved ones watching them die. Sorry, sorry. He looks at him like a lover. Hate to tell him he’s already gone. Trying might be a waste. Others dying, too.”

Cullen stills as he recognizes Wynne in Cole’s words. “Is he-“

“It hurts you, too,” Cole says. “Not knowing.”

Cullen feels an ache in his chest. “Is Dorian dead?” he asks.

Cole is silent for a very long time, his hat obscuring his expression so that Cullen cannot begin to guess at the emotions on his face. In the quiet, Cullen remembers a thousand moments he’d spent with Dorian at Skyhold. Late nights at the herald’s rest, early mornings in the circle tower, afternoons spent staring at each other over the war table. Days with their heads bent over a book, reading strategy and history and working in tandem to hunt the Venatori and give the inquisition every edge that they could. He swallows thickly, words sticking in his throat.

“You didn’t know,” Cole puts his thoughts into words. “He loved you. It was there. Small moments. Smiles. Jokes. Gentle touches and lingering looks. You keep secrets from yourself, pretending you didn’t notice.” Cole looks up and his blue eyes are haunting. “You think you’ll never get to tell him.”

“Cole, please,” Cullen feels tears pricking at the back of his eyes. “I’d like to keep these thoughts to myself.” He tries to sound like the Commander of the Inquisition again, but his voice wavers and he sounds human and heartbroken.

“He’s still breathing,” Cole says softly.

Cullen’s eyes go wide. “What-“ But Cole is already gone, left to help some other lost soldier grieve.

Wynne finds Cullen late in the evening, once the battle has ended and the wounded have either passed on or passed out. “Commander,” She says by way of greeting and places one hand on her hip. “You brought me a resilient one.”

Cullen looks up at her with a guarded expression. “Will he survive?”

Wynne deflects the question with one of her own: “Is that his staff?”

Cullen nods. “I thought he would want it back.”

She gives him a soft look, one made sadder perhaps due to how practiced it was. “I’ll make no promises,” she starts. “But your…friend…he shouldn’t have made it as far as he did.” She waves her hand at the staff. “Not all magic needs tools. The boy that helps me, Cole, said your friend practiced Necromancy. It is not so dissimilar from healing magic…he may have kept himself alive. If so, he may very well keep himself alive through the night.”

Cullen nods his head, keeping his expression schooled even as hope burns in his chest. “Can I go see him now?”

“There’s not much to see at the moment,” she shrugs. “Just mind that you don’t disturb the other injured.” 

“Thank you, Wynne.” He stands from where he was seated. “Your service is appreciated.”

She nods. “I’d take a nice plum wine as thanks, but remember: I make no promises.”

Cullen nods to her and walks across the camp to the medical tents. He finds Dorian at a far end with other sleeping soldiers and takes a seat beside the cot he’s on. The tent is full of sad noises- tiny sobs, wheezing breaths, coughs and moans alike- But Dorian looks peaceful underneath the thin sheet the medics had covered his bare torso with. Cullen pulls back the cover to assess the damage, but Dorian’s been so thoroughly bandaged that he can’t tell where the original wound was versus the new cuts made from surgery. He sighs and moves the cover back into place. Without any sign of damage or any pained noises from Dorian, Cullen can almost pretend that he’d imagined the horrific injury to begin with. _Almost._ The edges of his surcoat are still stiffened and stained with Dorian’s blood, keeping his hopeful thoughts chained to the dim reality of what happened.

He takes Dorian’s hand in his own and gives it a squeeze. He keeps his voice quiet and soft as he starts into the chant of light. Once he finishes, he starts into another Andrastan prayer. He goes through them all until his head is too heavy to hold up and he falls asleep leaned over the side of the cot with Dorian’s hand still in his.

He wakes with a jolt hours later. It takes his foggy brain a few sluggish seconds to realize the strange sensation that startled him was Dorian untangling their hands.

“Oh good, my staff made it with us.” Dorian’s voice cracks from the roughness of his near-death experience. “Adaar gives so few gifts; it would have been a shame to lose it…ugly as it is…”

“Thank the Maker,” Cullen says, soft and reverent.

Dorian gives him a thin smile. “I hardly think the Maker had any hand in that staff’s creation.”

Cullen isn’t quite ready to make jokes. “You almost died.”

“And yet here I am,” Dorian gestures to himself. “You won’t be rid of me yet, Commander.”

Cullen shakes his head. “I don’t mind keeping you around, Pavus.” He pauses, fingers itching to take Dorian’s hand again, but he restrains himself. “Do you remember what you said to me before you passed out?”

Dorian waves a dismissive hand through the air. “I’m sure it was some delirious absurdity.” He says it blithely, his tone forced into casualty.

Cullen recognizes the lie instantly and gives him a stern look.

“Fine, fine,” Dorian sighs. “I remember.”

“Did you mean it?” Cullen presses.

“I thought I was dying,” Dorian near spits and refuses to meet Cullen’s gaze.

Cullen shakes his head. “But did you mean it?”

“And I would rather be dead than having this conversation,” Dorian says disdainfully and rolls his eyes.

Cullen’s temper flares at the words. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

Dorian finally looks back to him. “Please, Cullen,” He looks exhausted and vulnerable. “Forget that I said anything.”

Cullen shakes his head. “No, I won’t.” He gives in to his impulses and grabs Dorian’s hand. “If you meant it, I-“

“Stop,” Dorian says and tries to take his hand away.

“No,” Cullen holds tight to him.

“I’ll be going back to Tevinter once we defeat Corypheus,” Dorian says and looks back up at the ceiling. “And you’ll be staying here to deal with the aftermath of the Inquisition.”

“And what if I want you in the moments between now and then?” Cullen challenges.

“Then you’re a fool,” Dorian gives him a sharp look.

Cullen meets his gaze and there’s a ferocity in his golden eyes that catches Dorian off guard. “But would you say no? Would you hate it? If we were together-”

“No,” Dorian takes a deep breath. “I wouldn’t hate it. I wouldn’t say no.”

“Then we have time.” Cullen squeezes Dorian’s hand. “Not every one has that luxury.”

“This is going to hurt,” Dorian says matter-of-factly.

“I’m sure it will,” Cullen agrees. “The best things always do.” He leans over the cot and brushes Dorian’s hair away from his face. “I’ll let Wynne know you’re awake and find us some food. Then, we can start with breakfast.”

“Yes, breakfast,” Dorian agrees, though he’s got a hungry stare locked on Cullen’s lips. “And then?”

“We have time,” Cullen reminds him softly and presses a quick kiss to his forehead. Before Dorian can protest or ask for more, he pulls away and makes his way out of the tent.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the prompt "Just tell me why you did it!" "I did it because I love you!" sent to me on my tumble. But then I wrote way more than I intended so I really wanted to clean it up and put it on here. I hope that whoever the anonymous was that requested it enjoys it :)


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